


Heartilation

by edema_ruh



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Asexual Character, Blood, Common Cold, Concussions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fever, Fights, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Guilt, Harassment, Head Injury, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, I know this is a 5+1 things fic but honestly, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious, Pining, Protectiveness, Protest Gone Wrong, Protests, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Sacrifice, Sick Character, Sickfic, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, They love each other so much but they're so stupid, Unresolved Romantic Tension, emotional fever, i'm always a slut for emotional fevers, just give it a shot even if you don't usually like this trope, plus if you like to see cute oblivious gay boys fall in love and pine and protect each other, rally, there's a whole plot development behind the 5 things that i've been working my ass on for two days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edema_ruh/pseuds/edema_ruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, the five times Grantaire helped Enjolras and the one time Enjolras returned the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartilation

The first time Grantaire protected Enjolras, they barely knew each other. 

Sure, he had been going to Les Amis meetings for a few weeks now, but his interactions with Enjolras had been basically non-existent so far. Grantaire knew he was a goner as soon as he first caught eyes with the leader. He didn’t dare to call it love – not yet – but it wasn’t an infatuation either. There was something about Enjolras that made Grantaire's best side emerge from the depths where he had buried it, and even if he decided to mask it with sarcasm and loud, mean comments, he couldn’t fool himself. He knew that this guy, this Enjolras, was turning him into a believer again. Even if it wasn’t of the cause. 

He had tried to keep his distance, he did. He couldn’t afford falling in love, but specially, he couldn’t afford believing. Belief made him vulnerable and hopeful, and hope was doomed to be shattered and ruined. No, if he kept going to these meetings he would only end up getting himself into more and more ethical trouble, until he ended up like those fools who trusted Enjolras to change the world for better and save the poor from their misery. He had to stop attending, no matter how much his chest ached from missing Enjolras's golden hair or how he felt empty without hearing his voice. 

Grantaire had skipped the week's meeting, and to no one's surprise, received no text or call from Enjolras. He hadn't expected any, he was aware of Enjolras' distaste towards him – not that Grantaire could blame him, honestly, he was well aware that he was a pain in the ass -, but not even Joly, who was the closest thing he had to a best friend, showed concern regarding his absence. Grantaire decided to call it a night and head to the nearest bar, which was near to the Musain. This wouldn’t be a problem, since the ABC meeting should be far from over by now. 

As Grantaire approached the bar, though, he spotted three suspicious looking men looking at a figure crossing the street. Grantaire was familiar with that predacious look and knew better than to meddle in the matter, since the men were probably dangerous and reckless, but as he inevitably turned his head to see who the men were looking at, his heart skipped a beat as he realized it was Enjolras. 

Enjolras himself seemed well aware of the eyes on him, because he grabbed his bag closer to his body and started to walk more rapidly, sparing a single, short look back towards the men. The man on the middle of the group stood up straighter and gestured with a nod for the rest of them to follow as they went after Enjolras, who had just doubled the corner. 

Grantaire barely knew Enjolras. He was a beautiful, passionate man, interesting enough to catch Grantaire's attention and idealistic enough to make him feel nauseous. He was everything Grantaire hated and yet everything he wished he could be, and if Enjolras could spare a single moment of positive attention to Grantaire, that would make him the happiest man on Earth. He didn’t know for sure what he felt for Enjolras yet, but it was certainly something strong enough to send him right after the three men before they could reach the blonde leader. 

The cynic was a little late, though, for when he finally reached the group they had already surrounded Enjolras and one of them was holding a knife against his neck and smirking. Enjolras didn’t look scared, only mildly annoyed – which made Grantaire roll his eyes; how _stupid_ could Enjolras get, honestly? - and he merely pulled his backpack closer to his chest when one of the assaulters tried to get it from him. 

"Hey, dipshits", Grantaire called, heart thumping madly inside his chest, hands closing into fists when the four men turned their heads simultaneously to look at him. His breathing was fast and we was well aware of the angry scowl growing in his face, but he took a step forward towards them. "Get away from him". 

Enjolras was frowning, clearly confused, and Grantaire convinced himself not to rejoice at the way the leader mouthed his name. 

"Or what?" The man holding the knife asked, crooked yellowish teeth shining on the street light. 

"Or I'll kick your ass before you can say 'prison time'", Grantaire smirked back, jumping into action. 

Grantaire was a boxer, but he had a basic knowledge of a few martial arts. He was also sober on that moment, which contributed immensely to the suckerpunch he gave the man nearest to him. He fell to the ground like a ragdoll, knocked out from the blow. The man with the knife let go of the now wide-eyed Enjolras and jumped at Grantaire, who easily dodged the blow and held the man's arm up, punching his stomach. The remaining crook attacked Grantaire from the behind, holding both his arms back and leaving him exposed to the knife-man, who smiled menacingly. 

Before he could hurt Grantaire, though, Enjolras sprayed him in the eye with his small can of pepper spray. The man dropped the knife, yelling as he desperately covered both eyes with his hands, and Grantaire took this opportunity to kick him in the groin. He wasted no time and headbutted the man holding his arms behind his back, and before the man had any time to recompose himself Grantaire knocked him out with a punch. 

He finally looked up at Enjolras, panting, hands leaning heavily on both knees. 

"You weren't at the meeting", Enjolras stated dumbly, pepper spray on his shaky hand still lifted midair. 

"Well observed", Grantaire smirked obnoxiously. "Luckily for you, I couldn’t attend today. Why are you leaving so late, anyway?" 

"I like to stay after meetings to work on my next speeches", Enjolras explained, finally aware of the can still in his hands. He put it back in his pocket, arms now hanging awkwardly beside his body, unsure of what to do. 

"Well", Grantaire shrugged, finally standing upright and tapping his clothes as if to clean them. "Try not to do that anymore. This neighborhood is dangerous at this hour" 

 "It shouldn’t be", Enjolras said, angry. His brow furrowed into a frown as he spoke, eyes suddenly shining with righteous fury. Grantaire rolled his eyes; he didn’t need to know Enjolras for very long to know a speech was about to be delivered. 

"Let me stop you right there", Grantaire said just as Enjolras had opened his mouth to speak. "Here's what's going to happen. I will walk you home, then I will come back and get wasted on that bar. If I wanted to hear a speech today I would have attended the meeting". 

He was lying, of course. He loved listening to Enjolras' speeches, even if he disagreed with the contents. To see the passionate fury and the righteousness blossoming in his eyes and voice made Grantaire's body tremble with please. 

"Fine", Enjolras muttered, sounding reluctant. He turned on his heels and started walking, heading to his apartment building. Grantaire followed, quickly reaching the leader and walking beside him on the sidewalk. There was a tense silence between them, both unsure of what to say. Enjolras was the one who finally broke the silence, despite sounding awkward. "So, why didn’t you go to the meeting today?" 

_B_ _ecause of you_ , Grantaire wanted to say. _Because seeing your cherry lips opening and closing as you proffer words of justice and freedom drives me insane. Because listening to your voice change and tremble with a passion I can never share sends shivers down my spine, and because seeing you lick and bite your lips as you're lost in deep thought, knowing that I'll never be able to kiss them, breaks my heart. Because I can never have you, and it's killing me, no matter how much I try to convince myself I'm not in love. Because I have to get as far away as possible from you before I become too far gone in your_ _greatness, which I can't seem to do, because I'm always getting drawn right back to you. Just_ ** _let me go_** _, for god's sake. Tell me you hate me. Be rude to me. Mistreat me. Give me a good reason to leave for good._  

"Ah, I was busy with an art project", Grantaire said instead. Enjolras didn’t look convinced but didn’t push the subject. 

"Oh, I see", he responded, not looking at the cynic. "Well, it is a pity. You missed our preparatory plans to the protest next month, and I believe you could have given us useful insight regarding a few subjects that are still unclear-" 

"I'll ask Combeferre to catch me up on that later", Grantaire interrupted, overwhelmed. If Enjolras kept talking to him like that – if he kept speaking as if Grantaire was important to him, as if his opinions mattered – he wouldn’t be able to keep pretending. He couldn't allow Enjolras to be nice to him or he'd be at his feet like a dog in no time. Grantaire hated himself a little more for that. 

"Oh", Enjolras said, seeming thrown aback by Grantaire's interruption. "Alright". 

The awkward silence fell upon them once more, until they finally reached Enjolras' apartment building. 

"Well, this is it", Enjolras said politely, gesturing at the building. "Thanks for bringing me all the way here". 

"No problem", Grantaire shrugged, daring to give Enjolras a half-smile. "Be more careful on the streets, Enjolras. There's no need for you to stay that late at the Musain". 

"I'll try to", Enjolras responded, but they both knew he wouldn’t. Enjolras was as stubborn as a mule sometimes. 

"Goodnight", Grantaire said, feeling awkward but trying not to show it. He turned on his heels and walked away, not waiting for a response, shoving his shaking hands inside his pockets and pretending he didn’t have butterflies rallying inside his stomach. 

"Grantaire", Enjolras called, decided, and the cynic stopped in his tracks. He slowly looked back at Enjolras, feeling – for a reason he couldn’t understand – more nervous than he had ever felt in his entire life. 

The leader was smiling at him – was... was that the first time Enjolras smiled at him? - and if Grantaire didn’t know better he would say he looked somewhat embarrassed. 

"Thank you for saving me tonight", Enjolras continued, sounding sincere. 

"Anytime", Grantaire responded, unable to contain the smile growing on his lips. Enjolras nodded and opened the door, disappearing through it. Grantaire stared at the place where Enjolras had been standing for a few more seconds before turning on his heels once more and heading to the bar. 

He was truly a goner now. 

- 

The second time Grantaire protected Enjolras was months after the first incident. 

Their friendship had grown but it also got worse, for there wasn’t a single ABC meeting in which they didn’t loudly argue about different ideals and fought about Grantaire's mannerisms. Enjolras would often tell him to quit drinking already and lecture him on how his self destructing behaviors were bad for him. Grantaire would usually roll his eyes, but the roll was always deeper whenever Enjolras mentioned the "wasted potential" Grantaire had. 

He was sure Enjolras hated him. The leader was always scowling, rolling his eyes and snapping at him. He wasn’t that blatantly rude to any other Ami – was Grantaire even an Ami? He couldn’t tell – and he even kicked Grantaire out of one meeting one time. Not that Grantaire blamed him, of course. He was well aware that he was – purposefully – being a pain in the ass. 

Grantaire was a great fan of the way Enjolras made a little unconscious pout whenever he heard Grantaire's arguments as to why he disagreed with his ideals, and he absolutely loved the way Enjolras' face looked like whenever he argued back, all fierce and righteous. He got on Enjolras' bad side on purpose. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. 

They barely spoke outside meetings, and whenever there were social encounters between the Amis, Grantaire usually stuck to the bar with Joly and Bossuet while Enjolras sat on the farthest corner possible from him. He didn’t drink, and he didn’t like dancing, so he would usually sit by himself, only Combeferre or Courfeyrac eventually stopping by to see how he was doing and trying – to no avail – to change his mind about socializing. 

Enjolras was great at public speaking, but he seemed a little anxious about socializing individually. 

They were at the Corinth one night, a place that served as restaurant during days and became somewhat of a bar with a dance floor by night. No one was entirely sure how to describe the Corinth, but the Amis enjoyed going there sometimes to celebrate whenever a certain goal of their cause was accomplished. This night, they were celebrating a successful protest, that had managed to remain entirely peaceful and actually contributed to more people knowing about their little group and joining them. 

Enjolras was sitting by a little round table beside Combeferre, both of them discussing something related to the protest. Grantaire watched from afar, sitting with Bossuet by the bar and only half-heartedly hearing what the man was telling him. 

"Hey! Earth to Grantaire!" Bossuet said snapping his fingers in front of Grantaire's eyes and calling his attention. 

"Sorry, I got distracted", Grantaire said, blinking and taking a sip from his beer. 

"Yeah, I know what you got distracted about", Bossuet teased, smirking and mimicking Grantaire's sip. "Try not to be so obvious, though; I know Enjolras is oblivious but even he will realize you have a crush on him if you keep staring at him without blinking for hours". 

Grantaire rolled his eyes, thanking whatever deity there might be for the thick curls that covered his flushing ears from view. 

"I don’t have a crush on him", Grantaire stated, and froze as two hands grabbed his shoulders from behind. 

"Who has a crush on who?" Joly asked, and Grantaire relaxed beneath his touch. Joly sounded too excited and a little bit too loud, signs that he was already on his way to getting drunk. He sat on the stool beside Bossuet and ordered a drink for himself. 

"R has a crush on E, but that's not news to anyone", Bossuet laughed, finishing his beer and already ordering another one. "I was only telling him not to be so obvious about it". 

"Oh, I see", Joly nodded, winking at Grantaire. "Well, if he ever hopes that Enjolras will notice his feelings, I think he should be obvious about them". 

"Joly! Don't give the poor man bad advice!" Bossuet protested, fake-indignant. 

"What do you mean, bad advice?" Grantaire frowned, finishing his own beer with one big chug. 

Joly and Bossuet shared a subtle wary look before Joly lowered his eyes to the glass on his hands and Bossuet sighed. 

"Enjolras is... well", Bossuet shrugged. "He's never shown interest in anyone, sexually speaking". 

"And romantically speaking, too", Joly added. 

"Oh", Grantaire said, simply. What else was there to say? He didn’t mind if Enjolras was ace. In the beginning, his feelings might have started as lust, but now it was something else. He loved Enjolras, every inch of him, every quality and every defect. He loved him when he was gentle and he loved him when he was fierce. He didn’t care about sex. If he could only hold Enjolras in his arms and kiss his messy blond curls, that would be enough for him. Damn, if he could only stand two inches away from Enjolras without feeling like he might be kicked away in any second, he would be contented. 

"Actually I don’t think I've ever seen him show interest in anything other than _Patria_ ", Bossuet said, sing-songing the last word with mockery. He and Joly shared a laugh at this, unaware of Grantaire's line of thought. 

"Yeah, R", Joly nodded. "I think you should let him go. I don’t think you ha-" 

"Whoa, what's going on there?" Bossuet interrupted, looking somewhere over Grantaire's shoulder with wide, interested eyes. "I think we may be wrong, Joly. Looks like Enjolras is about to score!" 

"Lesgle", Joly rebuked, nudging him in the ribs with an elbow and looking at Grantaire with worry. The cynic had turned on the bar stool to gaze at what Bossuet had pointed, and was now faced with Enjolras talking excitedly with a woman who was sitting close beside him. 

The woman had thick black curls that fell all the way to her mid back, and she gestured widely with both hands as she spoke something. Enjolras smiled and nodded, agreeing with whatever she had said, and unconsciously leaned closer to her, one elbow leaned on the table and one hand propping his head. Combeferre was nowhere to be seen. 

Grantaire turned back around, trying to put on his most neutral face. He didn’t know why his heart was aching so much. Deep within him, he had always known that he could never have Enjolras. If Grantaire truly loved him as he had reluctantly admitted to himself, he should be happy for Enjolras, right? He should be happy for him. 

But the only thing Grantaire wasn’t feeling on that moment was happiness. 

God, he really was a disgusting, selfish prick, wasn’t he? 

He shook off the self-loathing thoughts growing in his head and took a large gulp of his new beer. He nearly finished the whole glass with just one chug, and Joly frowned at him with concern. 

"Are you alright, R?" He asked, a pitying smile on his lips. Grantaire hated that smile. He didn’t need Joly's pity. He didn’t need anyone's sympathy. 

"Fantastic", Grantaire replied, not looking at his friend. Bossuet placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Grantaire shrugged it off. 

Meanwhile, as Enjolras spoke to the woman, his smile began to falter and his interest began to shift. She had approached him as an enthusiast of their cause, telling him how she had been attending some of their meetings and going to protests. Enjolras had started conversing with her enthusiastically, even daring to lean forward to show receptiveness. He couldn’t deny she was beautiful; she had greyish eyes that leant more towards blue than true grey, and her thick black curls that fell down her waist made Enjolras feel a sense of familiarity that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

The woman was gesturing widely, sharing a funny story about one SJW group she used to frequent but stopped attending due to their extremism and Enjolras laughed along. The way she wet her lips with her tongue between phrases was somewhat mesmerizing, but it was only when she nodded her head to brush a wayward curl away from her eyes that Enjolras realized why speaking to her felt so familiar. 

She had grey eyes, black curly hair and the habit to wet her lips while she talked. 

She looked just like a female version of Grantaire. 

Enjolras was thrown aback at this, unconsciously leaning away from her in surprise. Could it be? Had his mind subconsciously felt attraction towards this woman just because she shared some traits with Grantaire? Paying more attention, Enjolras realized she even had a few acne scars on her cheeks. 

Enjolras felt confused. He had been trying so hard to deny it to himself that he liked Grantaire, but moments like these made him doubt his own security. Ever since Grantaire saved him from the robbers in the street, there had been _something_... something growing inside his chest, blossoming and making it practically impossible to take Grantaire out of his mind. He found the cynic invading his thoughts unexpectedly, and Enjolras had to resist every urge he had to text or call him whenever this happened. 

Even if Enjolras didn’t like Grantaire romantically – he didn’t, of course he didn’t, his mind was just playing silly tricks on him – he couldn’t help but to think of anyone else but the man. 

Shit. _Shit_. He was thinking about Grantaire right now. While a beautiful girl spoke to him. 

Enjolras decided he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to. 

He spared a look to Grantaire, who was still sitting by the bar with Joly and Bossuet. He was hunched over on the stool, looking... upset. Enjolras didn’t know why, because he hadn't been sitting like that a few moments ago. Maybe it was because of something the pair said to him? 

The girl – Giselle, her name was Giselle – must have noticed that something was going on with Enjolras, because she leaned forward as if to call his attention. 

"Hey, sweetie. Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. I'm just... I'm just worried about someone", Enjolras explained, quickly glancing at Grantaire again before turning his gaze back at Giselle. 

"Oh", she said, placing one hand at Enjolras thigh and rubbing it. Enjolras frowned. "Well, I know something that can take the troubles out of your mind", she smiled. 

"I... I enjoyed talking to you", Enjolras said, eyes darting around the room looking for Combeferre or Courfeyrac or anyone who could help him get out of that situation. The thought of being that close – that intimate – with anyone other than Grantaire didn’t appeal to him at all. "But I think this is all we should do for now. Uh, talk". 

"I know other things I can do with my mouth", she whispered in his ear, and Enjolras tensed up. "You're a pretty boy, you know that?" 

Enjolras leant away from her, uncomfortable, desperately looking for Combeferre now. His social anxiety started to kick in and he felt his hands tremble with nervousness as her rubbing movements on his thigh got higher and higher up his leg. Where the hell was Combeferre? He would surely be able to help him. 

Meanwhile, on the bar, the trio drank for a few more minutes, changing the subject of the conversation from Grantaire's "crush" on Enjolras to the time Bossuet knocked over Jehan's pet plant and had to buy the boy a terrible sweater to make up for the loss. Grantaire even entered the conversation, making sarcastic remarks and pretending there wasn’t a dull ache inside his hollow chest. He avoided looking back towards Enjolras and the girl talking to him, until Bossuet nudged him with an elbow.

"That doesn’t seem to be going very well", he commented, nodding towards Enjolras. Grantaire immediately turned his head to look at the man, hating himself for feeling hopeful. 

The woman was very close to Enjolras, too close, in fact. The leader was clearly uncomfortable, shoulders stiff and eyes darting around the room, clearly nervous. He was trying to put some distance between himself and the girl, and even told her something that Grantaire couldn’t understand from where he was sitting. This only made her get closer to him, and the cynic could see one of her hands rubbing Enjolras' thighs with malice. Enjolras swallowed dry at this, now blatantly raising his hips and moving away from the woman on his seat. He said something that looked like 'I'm not interested' (Grantaire wasn’t sure, he wasn’t a great lip reader), but the woman followed him and closed the inches of distance Enjolras had placed between them, hands reaching for Enjolras' curls and playing with them. She leaned forward to try and kiss Enjolras, but he turned his head, making her kiss the corner of his mouth instead. 

"Oh no", Joly muttered, leaning forward and watching the scene too. "We should help him, he's clearly uncomfortable and she isn't stopping". 

Enjolras' eyes were still darting madly across the room, probably looking for Combeferre. He locked eyes with Grantaire instead, who was watching him with a worried frown from his place by the bar, hands half-squeezed into fists. 

Enjolras didn’t have to say anything, his eyes spoke enough. Grantaire could see, even through the haze of the little alcohol he had consumed, that Enjolras was uncomfortable but didn’t know how to escape the situation. The woman leaned to whisper something on his ear and grabbed his crotch through his pants, making Enjolras jump on the seat, startled. Grantaire decided he had had enough. 

"R, wait!" Joly protested as Grantaire hopped from the stool and marched towards Enjolras. The leader looked up at him with a mix of confusion and relief, and Grantaire threw himself on the seat beside Enjolras, passing an arm around his shoulders and subtly pulling him away from the girl. 

"Hi, Enj", Grantaire greeted, at the same time the (now annoyed) woman said "Who the fuck are you?" 

"I should ask you the same", Grantaire said, looking at her threateningly. The woman seemed thrown aback at this, staring at Grantaire with a mix of anger and confusion. "Yeah, I figured that much", Grantaire said as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, unsure of what to say. "I think you should be going". 

"But I'm-" the woman tried to protest. 

"He's not interested", Grantaire interrupted, glaring knives at her. "He told you so several times, but you're too impolite to get the fuck out of here and leave him alone. So now _I'm_ telling you. Piss off". 

The woman stared in anger for a few more seconds, and Grantaire stared back. He pulled Enjolras closer to him to make a point, but still managed to keep a safe distance between them. The woman finally looked at Enjolras, who was also glaring, allowing himself to sink closer towards Grantaire, and resigned with a harsh blow of air through her nose. 

"Fine", she grumbled, picking her purse and getting up from the seat. She spared Enjolras one last glare before marching away from the pair, but Grantaire waited until she was out of sight to retrieve his arm from the top of Enjolras' shoulder and lean away from him. 

"Are you alright?" He asked Enjolras, worry clear in his voice. The leader didn’t look at him, eyes suddenly very interested at his own hands lying against his thighs. "Enjolras?" Grantaire tried to urge, scared of pressuring the man. 

"I'm fine", Enjolras snapped, and Grantaire instinctively leaned further away. Enjolras' harsh expression softened as he finally looked at Grantaire, who was staring with a mix of confusion and hurt at him. "I'm sorry", he immediately apologized, confused. "I'm... I... I must go", Enjolras finally said, getting up from his seat abruptly and bumping on the table, which knocked his glass of soda all over Grantaire's shirt. "Oh, no, crap, I'm sorry", Enjolras said, leaning towards Grantaire to help him clean himself but stopping midway, hesitating.  

"Enjolras, it's ok", Grantaire said, grabbing Enjolras' forearm with gentleness and looking him deep in the eye, trying to transmit reassurance. "It's fine". 

"I have to go", Enjolras said, pulling his arm away from Grantaire's grasp and basically jogging towards the exit door, disappearing through it. 

Grantaire leaned back against the cushioned seat, letting a loud sigh through his nose. He looked down at his soda stained shirt, confused. What the hell had happened? 

"What did you say to him?" Combeferre asked, suddenly appearing and sitting beside Grantaire. The cynic looked at the man, only to find him staring with accusation in his eyes. "I swear to god, Grantaire, if you tried to take advantage of him-" 

"What do you take me for?" Grantaire asked, offended. He sat up straighter, staring at Combeferre with disbelief. "There was a woman harassing him and I sent her away. I did nothing to him, I would _never_ ". 

"Then why did he go away like this?" Combeferre asked, accusation diminishing in his tone and being replaced by suspicion.  

"Fuck me if I know", Grantaire said with irritation. "I did nothing to him, I was just trying to help. Now, if you'll excuse me", he got up from the seat, bowing with exaggeration to Combeferre in a gesture of mockery. He walked away from the guide without bothering to look back, and retook his seat by the bar, pretending he didn’t notice the way Bossuet and Joly were staring at him. 

Grantaire drank more in the rest of that night than he had the whole week altogether. He didn’t remember getting home, but when he woke up on the following afternoon there was a cup of water and an aspiring sitting on his nightstand. His head felt like it was about to split in two, so he took the pill and blindly stumbled his way to the bathroom to attend to nature's call. 

He allowed himself to fall heavily on his bed when he got back, covering both eyes with the crook of his arm to prevent the stinging brightness of the room to send more waves of pain across his skull. Grantaire ended up falling asleep at some point, only waking up again hours after that when it was nearly evening. 

He missed the text Enjolras sent him a few hours after he left the Corinth, only seeing it nearly a day later. 

**_From:_** ** _Enjolras_** ** _(02:11) Sorry for leaving like that tonight. I was nervous and confused; but it was wrong of me not to give you a_** ** _pro_** ** _per_** ** _thank. So, thank you very much_** ** _for helping me._**  

- 

The third time it happened was in a protest. 

Grantaire hated protests. It was very rare for him to attend one, because 1 – they were usually too crowded and full of unsteady people; 2 – he didn’t care enough about the ABC cause to put actual effort into protesting, which only made Enjolras scowl at him; and 3 – Enjolras always seemed to be terribly exposed, standing on an open stage, and Grantaire didn’t know what he would do if the man got hurt. Probably something very stupid, and Grantaire didn’t want to deal with being arrested – again. 

But this time, it was a big deal, a too-big-of-a-deal for Grantaire to skip. Enjolras had personally asked him to attend it, which had never happened before, and Grantaire found himself unable to say no to Enjolras, not when he asked him something so blatantly and directly. 

So there he was, standing on the stage between Bahorel and Courfeyrac, watching as Enjolras passionately delivered his speech to a full crowd. Grantaire may not be one of Enjolras' closest friends – actually, he was pretty sure he was one of Enjolras' _farthest_ friends – but he was well aware of how hard Enjolras had worked on that speech. He probably gave up hours of sleep to finish it, and Grantaire's heart warmed at the thought of a sleep deprived Enjolras trying to write, head leaning heavily on one hand and he chugged on a mug of coffee and blinked himself awake. 

He was so pathetic. He knew he would never be able to witness that in person, and yet, he couldn’t help but to imagine it. 

A loud noise in the crowd called Grantaire's attention and stole him from his thoughts. Everyone's focus were caught by the sound, even Enjolras', but he didn’t falter in his speech and continued speaking as passionately as before. 

There was a man yelling something at Enjolras; Grantaire couldn’t quite understand what he was saying due to the distance, but the tone made clear that they were hateful words. This was a pro-LGBTQ+ protest, one that was trying to make the government change laws that still oppressed them. This, of course, was upsetting a lot of conservative sections, specially because Les Amis' public was increasingly growing from protest to protest. 

Another man joined the first in the yelling, and in no time there were several people yelling slurs and hate at Enjolras. They were the minority, little agglomerations of people scattered through the crowd, but things were getting tense and Grantaire sensed that violence was about to start any minute now. He saw Combeferre approaching Enjolras from the other edge of the stage and the police fidgeting in anticipation from the behind of the stage. 

Then one of the yelling men punched a protestors in the face, and all hell broke loose. 

Grantaire immediately started towards Enjolras, who was trying to yell words of peace on his megaphone, attempting to calm the crowd to no avail. People were screaming and running, trying to get away from the center of the mess, as small fights broke through the several layers of the crowd. The police had entered the action and was trying to disperse the people, using gas bombs and pepper spray, but this only made everyone get more agitated and desperate to run away. 

Grantaire grabbed Enjolras' forearm, trying to pull him away from the stage so that they could go away through the square on the back of it, but he refused to let himself be dragged by the cynic. 

"Enjolras, let's go! You need to get out of here!", Grantaire yelled. Combeferre joined Grantaire in his efforts, trying to pull the leader away from the incoming cloud of gas, but he was steady as a mule, still yelling on the megaphone, his meaningless words going unheard by the desperate people and scattering across the wind. 

Then it all happened in a blur. 

He saw the incoming rock coming from somewhere beneath the cloud of gas and pepper spray, and instantly knew that Enjolras, stubborn as he was, hadn't seen it, too busy with his empty mission of calming the crowd. Enjolras was about to be hit by a rock in the head, and Grantaire, standing right beside him, threw himself in front of the leader just in time. 

The rock connected sharply with Grantaire's forehead and the impact made him fall limply to the ground, nearly knocking Enjolras, who was behind him, down with him. A pain like he had never felt before burst across his skull, making him numb to everything else around him. Now there was only silence where there should have been yelling and screaming, and when he opened his eyes he only saw black and white spots dancing where there should have been a blue sky. He was faintly aware of something touching him – probably a hand... how else would anyone touch him, if not with a hand? With a foot? Why would they touch him with a foot? He didn’t want a foot to touch him, he didn't like feet very much, at least not his own feet, which was hairy and too pale and full of veins... he knew veins were necessary but he didn’t like them on his feet.  

"… ar me?" There was a familiar voice asking him, but it sounded like it was several meters away from him. Or like he was underwater. Was he underwater? He couldn’t remember. "Can you hear me?" 

Whose voice was that anyway? The phantom of a name hovered somewhere deep inside his  confused mind, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him. 

"Please, talk to me, oh my god", the voice said, begging, and Grantaire wanted to frown. He didn’t remember who owned that voice, but there was one thing he knew about that, and it was that this voice never begged. At least not for Grantaire, never for Grantaire. 

He tried to open his eyes again – when had they closed? - but the bright light that invaded his vision made the pain in his head worse and he couldn’t suppress a whimper. Oh, that was why he had closed them. Grantaire felt really confused, and he didn’t like being confused. The voice said something he didn’t understand – or, maybe he understood but forgot the words instantly – and he made a small effort to squint his eyes open once more. 

On the top of him, there was a god. 

He had big green eyes, the richest green Grantaire had ever seen in an eye – it was like an entire forest inhabited the inside of his iris -, and tiny little freckles that went mostly unnoticed decorated his pale, wet cheeks. Why were they wet, anyway? Grantaire didn’t recall rain. But Grantaire didn’t recall many things on that moment. 

A golden halo of curly hair decorated the top of the angel's head, soft wayward strands of gold falling above the green eyes. It shined against the brightness of the sky behind him, and cherry-colored full lips were opening and closing, trying to tell Grantaire something that he couldn’t hear or understand. His mortal, sinful ears weren't designed to hear the godly words. 

He was suddenly aware of a cold hand on his cheek, which made him aware of the sticky wetness on his face. Grantaire looked around the angel, trying to see signs of rain, but everything was dry, colors too sharp for Grantaire's eyesight to handle. His eyelids started to drop close once more, but slaps on his cheek made him reopen them. 

The angel looked sad and guilty. Had he made the angel feel like that? Grantaire felt guilty too now, but found himself confused when a sob made its way past his throat. Was he crying? Suddenly the pain on his skull increased with harshness, and he shut his eyes closed tightly. What was going on? 

"Focus on my voice", a velvety and yet trembling voice told him. Was this his god? "Don't go to sleep. Open your eyes, please, Grantaire". 

Oh. The angel knew his name. Grantaire felt blessed, and yet he couldn’t know why. Maybe it was because the angel had noticed him. 

"Open your eyes!", the voice urged, sounding on the verge of desperation. There was someone else there now, Grantaire could feel several hands touching parts of his body. Someone put something on his forehead and Grantaire screamed in pain, spine arching off the ground and arms desperately trying to push the pain away. 

"Stay still, R, stay still!" A different voice ordered, and now there were hands pining him to the floor. 

"Apollo, please", Grantaire heard his own voice moan in pain, pleading. He dared to open his eyes once more, when the pain didn’t subside. There was a brunette young man on the top of him, now, eyes wide and face terrified. There was a wetness on his eyes that was sliding down his cheeks, and Grantaire couldn’t remember the name for that. Was it the same thing that was wetting the god's face? 

"He's too unquiet, he needs to stay still until the ambulance arrives", Grantaire heard the boy on the top of him say, voice shaking and sad. He didn’t want him to be sad. He liked that boy. 

"Let him see Enjolras, he was quieter then", another foreign voice said, and Grantaire startled. Enjolras! That was the angel's name. How did he forget that? He vowed never to forget that again. 

The boy looked reluctant but disappeared from Grantaire's view, and with him the painful pressure on his forehead. Grantaire felt himself smile with relief, and the smile only widened when the angel – _Enjolras_ – reappeared. He looked at Grantaire with sad eyes and suddenly the pain returned, stronger than before, making Grantaire hiss and whimper with betrayal. Why was the angel hurting him? 

"No", Grantaire muttered, trying weakly to push the angel's hands away.  

"I'm sorry R, we need to stop the bleeding", Enjolras told him, wetness pooling on his eyes. Grantaire didn’t like to see that on his face. He lifted his hand to brush the water away from his angel's cheek, only to find that a smear of blood had appeared on the skin instead. It took him a few seconds to realize that the blood had come from his thumb, and he frowned in confusion. 

"'m I dyin'?" Grantaire asked, slurring. It felt like his tongue had been replaced by cotton and his eyelids were getting heavier by the second. 

"No!" Enjolras immediately responded, sounding as if the possibility offended him. "No, you're just... hurt. You'll be fine, you'll see. You're not dying. I won't let you". 

"'m sorry", Grantaire murmured, hand falling limply to his side, too heavy to be sustained by Grantaire. 

"Don't fall asleep", Enjolras instructed with harshness, voice steady but face terrified. Had Grantaire ever seen him that terrified? "You have to stay awake, just for a little bit more ok?" 

"Tired", was all Grantaire managed to say in response. Enjolras bit his lower lip, frowning, and Grantaire thought that was the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life. 

"Just keep talking to me", Enjolras instructed, using his spare hand to take Grantaire's and squeeze it. "We never talk much, do we? We just argue and yell at each other, so let's talk for once. What's your favorite color?" 

"Red", Grantaire answered after a few seconds of trying to remember. 

"Really? I always thought it was green, you're always wearing green", Enjolras said, relieved that Grantaire was responsive to his questions. 

"But you're not", Grantaire sighed, not even realizing he had said that. Enjolras frowned, but knowing that asking what Grantaire had meant by that wouldn’t work on that moment, he decided to move forward. 

"And what's your favorite season?" Enjolras asked, rubbing soothing circles on the back of Grantaire's hand. The cynic frowned, unfocused and glassy eyes looking up at Enjolras in confusion. 

"O' which show?" He asked. Enjolras couldn’t help but to laugh nervously at that. 

"Of the year", Enjolras explained, smiling, but resigned. "But ok, what's your favorite season of your favorite show?" 

"I... I..." Grantaire started, feeling something wet on his upper lip. There was something warm leaking from his nostrils now, sliding and falling into his mouth. It had a metallic taste. "I don' rem'mber". 

"No, no, no, that's not good", a voice said beside him, and his head was being tilted back. "His nose shouldn’t be bleeding, this is a bad sign". 

"Will he be ok?" Enjolras asked, voice going from calming and reassuring to frantic in no time. 

"He needs to go to the hospital immediately", the voice said, followed by a: "Where the fuck is that ambulance?" 

"'Jolras", Grantaire called, and the blonde angel immediately turned his attention to him.  

"Don't worry, R, you'll be just fine", Enjolras told him, slowly caressing his curls and giving him a patient smile. Was that the first time he used the nickname? 

"I need t' tell you som'thing", Grantaire continued, pain suddenly becoming too much to bear. It was overwhelming, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake for much longer. He couldn’t die without letting Enjolras know how he felt about him. 

"You can tell me later, ok?" Enjolras said, breaths coming out in harsh puffs now as he did his best not to openly cry. "Later, when you're better and recovered. Now you need to stay awake and quiet". 

"Bu' I need t' tell you", Grantaire protested weakly. He could no longer see Enjolras' face, his vision was too blurry for that and he was growing dizzier and dizzier. 

"I'm sorry", Enjolras interrupted, barely containing a sob. "This is all my fault. It should have been me". 

"No", Grantaire said, eyelids finally dropping close. "No. I'm glad". 

"You're glad?" Enjolras asked, nervousness and confusion sipping through his voice. 

"I'm glad i'wasn’t you" Grantaire explained, voice growing more slurred. 

"Don't be stupid", Enjolras reprimanded half-heartedly. "You shouldn’t have done that". 

"Bu' I did", Grantaire slurred. 

"Why?" Enjolras openly sobbed. 

"B'cause... B'cause I..." 

"They're here!" A voice interrupted. Loud footsteps echoed across the wooden floor and made the pain in Grantaire's head worse. Enjolras' hand disconnected from his and his comforting warmth was gone from Grantaire's side. He whimpered, unconsciously reaching for the man without seeing, and he felt himself being lifted by something and moved away. There was the sound of a door closing, a car starting, a siren echoing, orders being shouted and a voice begging and crying from somewhere beside him. 

Then there was nothing. 

When Grantaire woke up was to find a half-asleep Joly dozing off on the chair beside his hospital bed. He startled when he noticed Grantaire was awake, updated him on his condition and told him about the two-week long coma he had been in. He took his time to recover, staying in the hospital for a little longer and being visited by all the Amis on a daily basis. 

Well, all of them, except for Enjolras. Enjolras didn’t visit him, not even once. 

Combeferre would usually send him Enjolras' regards whenever he visited, telling him that the leader felt terribly sorry for what happened. Grantaire never asked why Enjolras didn’t go and tell him that personally; he didn’t want to know. Plus, he was sure Combeferre was valuing politeness over the truth. 

After Grantaire finally left the hospital and went to his first ABC meeting after the incident, Enjolras barely looked him in the eye. Grantaire didn’t interrupt the meeting with his usual banter, and Enjolras didn’t speak to him at all. It was only after the meeting ended that the leader approached him, finding him alone by his usual table on the corner, gathering his things to go home. 

"How are you feeling?" Enjolras asked, without greeting him. He looked stoic as ever. 

"A little tired, but fine", Grantaire responded, awkward. He didn’t look Enjolras in the eye. 

"Oh. Well, take care of yourself", Enjolras said, tapping him awkwardly on the shoulder. The action felt mechanic and unnatural. 

"Will do", Grantaire said. He finally dared to look up. Enjolras immediately averted his gaze, and Grantaire pretended it didn't bother him. "Well, I should be going". 

"Alright", Enjolras responded, stepping aside so that Grantaire could pass through. Before the cynic could walk out of the Musain, though, Enjolras called him. "R". 

Enjolras never used that nickname. Grantaire immediately turned on his heels, looking at Enjolras. They were feets away from each other. 

"Thank you", Enjolras said, green eyes looking deeply into grey ones. He knew he didn’t need to specify what he was thanking Grantaire for. 

"Don't worry about it, Apollo", Grantaire said, liking the way the name sounded on his tongue and the reaction he earned from Enjolras.  

The leader nodded, and Grantaire knew that was his cue. He left the Musain without daring to look back. 

How was it possible that his chest felt so hollow, and yet his heart felt so painfully tight? 

- 

Grantaire didn’t know why he continued to attend those meetings, except he did. 

It was because of Enjolras, of course, but deep down he knew that he and Enjolras would never be a thing. Hoping so was useless. 

He was completely recovered from the head injury now, and even went back to his unhealthy drinking habits, despite of Joly's disapproval. He thought of skipping the meeting, but the thought of seeing Enjolras, even if from afar and without talking to him, convinced Grantaire to go. He was getting dressed when his phone buzzed with a new text. 

**From:** **Combeferre** **(19:34) Today's meeting is canceled.** **Enjolras** **is sick and I finally got him to sleep. We'll reschedule it for next week, if he's better. - C**  

Grantaire frowned. He had never seen Enjolras get sick before. 

**To:** **Combeferre** **(19:35) Sick?? I didn’t know this was possible**  

**F** **rom:** **Combeferre** **(19:35) Of course it is, he's only human after all. It's nothing serious, though, just a cold.** **H** **e will be fine with proper care and recovery time. Don't worry about him. - C**  

**T** **o:** **Combeferre** **(19:36) Oh, alright**  

Grantaire sat down heavily at the edge of his bed, making it creak loudly on the otherwise silent room. Combeferre, who understood of that subject better than Grantaire did, had assured that it was nothing to worry about. But still, he couldn’t get the matter out of his mind. 

On the following day, Grantaire woke up to another text. 

**From:** **Combeferre** **(11:46) Hey, R. Will you be busy this afternoon? - C**  

**To:** **Combeferre** **(11:59) I don’t think so, why?**  

**F** **rom:** **Combeferre** **(12:00) I hate to ask you this, but out of all of us, you're the one who lives the closest to E... I have a lecture I can't miss today, and a project I have to finish.** **Courfeyrac** **will also be busy.** **Enjolras** **is still sick, he** **isn't answering his phone so he's probably asleep. Someone needs to make him tea and soup, but no one else other than Joly** **is** **avail** **able** **and he** **is terrified of going there. Would you mind it terribly going** **and checking him for me? I'll owe you one – C**  

**To:** **Combeferre** **(12:02) Don’t worry I'll go. What time should I be there?**  

**F** **rom:** **Combeferre** **(12:05) Whatever time is better for you. There's a spare key beneath the doormat** **and all the ingredients are already on the kitchen cabinet – C**  

**From:** **Combeferre** **(12:06) Please take his temperature as well and make sure he takes the medicine that’s on the nightstand – C**  

**From:** **Combeferre** **(12:07) He'll probably be grumpy and snappy, even if he's rude** **don’t let him get the best of you, it's his evil plan – C**  

**From:** **Combeferre** **(12:07) Sorry R I'm super late I have to run. If you need anything call me or** **Courfeyrac** **, thanks for the help! - C**  

**To:** **Combeferre** **(12:08) Don't worry I'll keep you updated.**  

Grantaire allowed himself to fall back against the mattress and stared unseeingly at the ceiling. He and Enjolras had never been close, but the cold distance between them only grew further after the protest incident. He had no idea how Enjolras would react to Grantaire taking care of him, of all people, but he couldn’t find it in himself _not_ to go and help the man. It wasn’t just because Combeferre had asked, but also because he would take any scrap of a chance to spend time with Enjolras, even if that made him feel like a terrible person. 

He decided to text Enjolras before going to his place, to check if the man was awake. 

**To:** **Enjolras** **(12:15) Hey, you awake??**  

He waited for several minutes, but there was no response. Grantaire decided to grab lunch on his way to Enjolras' and psychologically braced himself for whatever might await him. Dealing with a sick Enjolras was sure as hell a new experience. 

The key was taped to the bottom of the doormat as Combeferre said it would be, but Grantaire knocked on the front door before opening it anyway. He had never been to Enjolras' place before, and his palms were sweaty from anticipation. 

He opened the door, cleaning both feet on the doormat and entering the apartment meekly. The living room was ample, and somehow it looked exactly how Grantaire had pictured in his head. A tall shelf occupied an entire wall, filled to the brim with books and a few DVD cases. There was a dusty TV on an empty, square-shaped space at the middle of the shelf, a few books scattered around it. There was a forgotten mug of coffee on the coffee table, the undrunk remains lying at the bottom and covered by a layer of dust. Grantaire got to the kitchen, and nearly had a heart attack upon seeing the amount of dirty dishes on the sink. There were books on the kitchen too, what the fuck? Grantaire grabbed one of them and turned it to see the cover, curious. It was Jean-Jacques Rousseau's _Discourse on the Origin and Basis of Inequality Among Men_. Grantaire rolled his eyes, unsurprised. The reason there was so many dishes on the sink was probably because Enjolras came to the kitchen to read instead of eating or organizing his things for once. 

Grantaire looked for Enjolras' bedroom, going through a hall full of picture frames. Grantaire stopped to check them, even if he thought that that number of frames on a single hall was too much. The first picture was of Combeferre and Enjolras, but they were way younger, probably on their mid-teen years. Enjolras' smile was genuine and happy, not that tight-lipped humorless smile that he gave people out of politeness. The next photo showed the Amis reunited on the back of the Musain; it had probably been taken one or two years before Grantaire joined the group. Feuilly wasn't there, either. 

The other pictures were probably family photos, Enjolras smiling beside a stoic blonde woman, Enjolras standing in front of a serious man that had the exact same green eyes, Enjolras hugging an old, bald man and laughing so happily that Grantaire couldn’t help but to smile back. The smile froze on his face, though, as he saw the next picture. 

Grantaire recognized the place on the background, it was Courfeyrac's apartment. But the cynic didn’t remember ever seeing that photo before in his life. 

On the picture, Grantaire was smiling widely, little wrinkles forming on the sides of his eyes. He had a party had on and a necklace of flowers around his neck. There was pink glitter scattered across his dark curls and a healthy blush on his cheeks, a red jacket barely covering his hairy chest from view. Grantaire's arm was thrown above Enjolras' shoulders pulling him close, and Enjolras was smiling as widely as Grantaire, blue glitter on his blonde curls instead. He had Grantaire's green hoodie on and was holding up a cup of something probably alcoholic. They both looked wasted and happy, and Grantaire didn’t remember ever seeing Enjolras that happy. In fact, Grantaire must have been very drunk, because he didn’t even remember taking that picture in the first place. It probably had taken place at Courfeyrac's last birthday party on the previous year, given the amount of glitter on their hair and the mess on the back of Courfeyrac's apartment. 

It warmed Grantaire's heart that Enjolras had liked that picture enough to put it on a frame and hang it on the wall directly in front of his bedroom door. 

He stared at it for a few more seconds before turning on his heels and knocking lightly on the bedroom door. When he received no response, he opened it slightly, peeking inside before entering the room. 

Enjolras was fast asleep on the bed, lying on his stomach, covers and blankets raised up to his chin. One of his arms had escaped the cover and was dangling off the bed, and one of his feet was uncovered and exposed to the chilly air of the room. Grantaire pulled one of the blankets to cover it, smiling at the way Enjolras snuggled on the bed. His mouth was wide open and his curls were disheveled, covering his closed eyelids from view. Grantaire thought he looked exhausted, and a low tiny snore was emitted by Enjolras as if to confirm his suspicions. 

Grantaire placed the back of his hand against Enjolras' cheek and let out a relieved sigh upon realizing the man did not have a fever. He made sure Enjolras was warm and comfortable before going back to the kitchen. 

He did all the dishes and prepared the soup and the tea for Enjolras. His stomach growled – apparently a banana and half a bread weren't enough of a lunch for his body – and he decided to make pancakes for himself. Enjolras wouldn’t like to eat unaccompanied, would he? 

Grantaire was halfway through flipping a pancake when a grumpy-looking Enjolras appeared on the hall, blinking sluggishly and frowning at Grantaire. His hair was completely disheveled and his entire body was covered by a sheet, a weak attempt to maintain his warmth. 

"Wha' ar'you doin'ere?" Enjolras asked, voice coming out nasally due to his cold. Grantaire resumed flipping the pancake and turned the stove off, putting the contents of the frying pan on a plate absentmindedly at the same time he answered: 

"I'm doing pancakes. What about you?" 

"This is my house!" Enjolras protested, approaching Grantaire but stopping to sneeze. Grantaire rolled his eyes, noticing Enjolras was staring barefooted on the cold kitchen floor. 

"Go put some socks on and then we'll talk. I made you soup", he instructed, grabbing his and Enjolras' plate and heading to Enjolras' bedroom; the leader, confused, followed. 

"How di'you get in?" Enjolras asked, glaring at Grantaire when he pulled a chair towards Enjolras' bed and sat on it, placing both feet up on the mattress. 

"Eat your soup before it gets cold", Grantaire instructed through a mouthful of pancake. Enjolras sat on the edge of the bed, looking grumpy and suspicious, but he grabbed the plate and leaned back against his pillows. "I used the spare key to get in. Combeferre couldn’t come today, so I took his caretaking duties and made you this delicious soup". 

Enjolras raised the spoon to his lips and tasted the soup. His face scrunched up into a scowl and he swallowed with difficulty. 

"It's too hot!" He complained, due to the lack of things to complain about. 

"That's how you eat soup, dummy", Grantaire stated matteroffactly. "Did you want to eat it cold?" 

"Don' be condescending to me, I'm sick", Enjolras pouted, and fuck if that wasn’t the most annoyingly adorable thing Grantaire had ever seen in his life. 

"Alright, sorry, invalid man", Grantaire jested. "Eat your soup, then I'll give you tea, then to bed with you". 

"I'm already in bed", Enjolras said condescendingly, smirking at Grantaire with vengeance. 

"Oh my god, you're such a baby", Grantaire complained, but he was smiling. 

"Why di' you do my dishes?" Enjolras asked, taking a spoonful of soup. 

"Because they were dirty, and you're under no conditions of doing them. Neither is Ferre; the poor man works too much", Grantaire said, finishing his pancakes and placing the dirty plate on the edge of the bed. 

"You weren' suppos'd to", Enjolras complained, glaring at Grantaire. 

"It was no big deal, Enjolras, I don’t mind-" 

"No", Enjolras interrupted with an eyeroll. "They were suppos'd to annoy Ferre an' send him away". 

Grantaire stared at him with the most neutral face he could muster. 

"Why would you do that?" Grantaire asked, no accusation in his tone. He was actually curious to know the answer. 

"He worries too much", Enjolras explained, not looking at Grantaire. "Fusses too much. Doesn’t leave me to die alone". 

"You're not dying, stop being over dramatic", Grantaire retorted, amused at how pouty Enjolras was when sick. Grantaire always took him for the I'm-not-sick kind of guy. Finding out that Enjolras was actually a I'm-dying-of-a-cold type of guy was a bit of a shock. 

"Leave me alone", Enjolras protested, placing the empty soup plate on the top of Grantaire's and turning his back to the cynic. He pulled the covers up to his chin, trying to hide his face from view. 

"After you drink your tea and take your meds", Grantaire said, picking the plates and heading to the kitchen. He brought Enjolras a recently boiled tea and nudged him gently, rising the dozing off leader from his light sleep. 

"You're still h're?" Enjolras asked, glaring at Grantaire. 

"You can't scare me away, Enjolras", Grantaire told him. "You never could". 

Enjolras gaped at the cynic for a few seconds before giving in and taking the tea. He sipped at it slowly, careful not to burn his tongue, but he took the meds Grantaire gave him before the beverage was finished. 

Grantaire picked the teacup and tucked Enjolras into bed, pulling his covers closer to the man. 

"I'll get out of your hair now", Grantaire announced, checking Enjolras' temperature once more and retrieving his hand when he found it to be normal. He turned around to leave, but before he took even one step, Enjolras grabbed his hand. Grantaire looked down on him, only to see big, glassy green eyes staring up at him. 

"Sorry", Enjolras murmured. 

"What was that?" Grantaire teased, smiling warmly. 

"Sorry for being grumpy", Enjolras sighed. "Stay?" 

"You want me to stay?" Grantaire frowned, genuinely confused now. 

"Yes", Enjolras said, closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness overcame him. "You don’ treat me like the oth'rs. You make me feel good". 

Grantaire placed the teacup on the night stand and sat down at the edge of the bed, taking Enjolras' hand into his. The leader was hiding his face now, shoving it further into the pillows, away from Grantaire's gaze. The cynic reached down and gently touched Enjolras' chin with the tip of his rough, calloused fingers, inviting the man to look at him. Enjolras reluctantly turned his head towards Grantaire, not meeting his eyes. 

"Tell me", Grantaire said simply. Enjolras took a deep breath and coughed weakly a few times before complying, never looking up at Grantaire. 

"You make me feel good", he repeated. "All of th'others treat me different. They annoy me. You made me good soup and cozy tea". 

"Cozy tea?" Grantaire asked, giggling. Enjolras looked angry at this, mistaking Grantaire's amusement for mockery.  

"It made me feel cozy, so it's cozy tea", Enjolras explained sharply. "Don' mock me, I'm sick". 

"I'm not mocking you, I just found it cute", Grantaire said, rubbing soothing circles on Enjolras' palm.  

"You find me cute?" Enjolras frowned, finally looking up at Grantaire. The cynic didn't know if he took the compliment as good or bad. 

"Well, sometimes", Grantaire said. "You walk around looking all fierce and menacing, but I know that deep down you're just a huge dork". 

"'m not a dork", Enjolras protested, angry. "Or cute". 

"Yes, you are", Grantaire rolled his eyes. "Now close your eyes and go to sleep. You need to rest in order to get better". 

"'m not sleepy", Enjolras protested, straightening himself against the pillows as if to make a statement. 

"Oh my god, you're so stubborn", Grantaire complained. "Don't you want to get better?" 

Enjolras didn’t bother to answer him, looking away instead. 

"Well, to get better you need a lot of water and rest. I suggest you take a nap, but what can I do, it's your life", Grantaire shrugged. 

"Do you hate me, Grantaire?" Enjolras asked suddenly. 

"What?" Grantaire frowned, thrown aback by the question. 

"I used to think I hated you, but I was so wrong", Enjolras said, eyelids dropping close. "I actually like you. A lot". 

Grantaire raised a hand to touch Enjolras' forehead and check for fever again, but his temperature was normal. 

"Are you feeling ok?" Grantaire asked, genuinely concerned. 

"Stop being stupid on purpose", Enjolras huffed, and he would have rolled his eyes if they were open. "I said I like you. I used to think I hated you, because we were always arguing and yelling and you annoyed me on purpose, but...", his voice lowered and gained a more gentle tone, almost soft. "Seeing you bleed out in front of me made me realize that I care a lot about you". 

Grantaire swallowed dry, heart beating madly inside his chest. 

"I think we should talk about this when you're feeling better", he said, aprehensive, but Enjolras clicked his tongue. 

"I've always wanted to tell you this but I never knew how. So here it is. I don’t actually hate you", Enjolras stated, sounding contented with his own self. He even gave himself a small congratulatory smile. 

"Uh... Thanks, I guess", Grantaire answered, not knowing what else to say. 

"Please don’t ever do anything as reckless as that again", Enjolras asked. "You scared me so much on that day". 

"Why did you never tell me?", Grantaire asked, not voicing his real doubt. _Why did you never show me you cared? Why did you never come for me?_  

"I couldn’t", Enjolras sighed, suddenly sounding exhausted. "I was afraid". 

"Afraid of what?" Grantaire urged. Enjolras didn’t answer, and in a few seconds, his lips parted slightly. His breath evened out. "Enjolras?" Grantaire called, to no avail. Enjolras had fallen asleep. 

The cynic let out a heavy sigh, lowering his head and withdrawing his hand from Enjolras'. He settled the pillows beneath him and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, making sure his whole body was safely tucked and warm before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. 

Grantaire sent Combeferre a quick text updating him on Enjolras' state before going home and drinking the afternoon away. 

He woke up on the next day with a terrible hang-over induced headache and a single thank you text from Combeferre.  

- 

The fifth time it happened, resulted on the biggest fight they ever had. 

Things between them had grown tenser and tenser after Grantaire took care of a sick Enjolras on that day. They hadn't spoken after, and even if Grantaire delivered his usual banter on the following meetings, it was met with half-hearted responses from Enjolras, who seemed to be ignoring him now more than ever. 

Grantaire honestly didn’t understand what was going on. So, Enjolras didn’t hate him, that was nice. That didn’t mean Enjolras liked him, though. Which he clearly didn’t, from the way he was avoiding Grantaire's gaze and cutting off abruptly all his attempts to start a social conversation. 

One day, Grantaire decided he had had enough. He was drinking more than ever now, not a single day passed without him feeling like shit and waking up with a hangover. He longed for Enjolras, aware that he could never have him. That, by itself, was enough for him to feel bad, but knowing that Enjolras despised him to a point in which he was completely ignorable only made it worse. 

He could no longer take that. He needed to speak to Enjolras, know why he was being so cruelly ignored. He would understand and keep his distance if Enjolras gave him a good reason to, but he could no longer bear that cold indifference that had been tormenting him for weeks. His self-esteem was bad enough as it was, and even if it took all his self-control and courage, he approached Enjolras on the end of the meeting before the leader could run away like he had grown used to doing. 

"I want to talk to you", Grantaire said, and Enjolras jumped at the sudden presence behind him. He turned around, staring at Grantaire with apprehension. 

"Uh, does it have to be now?" Enjolras asked, turning on his back again and fidgeting with his notebooks and annotations. "I have a few things to write, and I'm sort of-" 

"I want to know why you're avoiding me", Grantaire interrupted, going straight to the point. Enjolras' hands stopped moving, frozen, but he didn’t look up at the cynic. "Don’t dare to say you're not", he continued before Enjolras could deny it. "You've always been cold to me, but this is something else. You've been ignoring me since the protest gone wrong, and I will understand if the reason for that is your dislike towards me, but if it's something else, you need to tell me. I can't read minds, Enjolras, so you need to tell me what's going on inside yours if you want us to inhabit the same social group". 

"I can't do this right now", Enjolras finally said after what felt like an eternity of silence. He shoved his notebooks and papers inside his bag and threw it over his shoulder, walking away from Grantaire and heading to the Musain's back room without looking back. Grantaire stared for a couple confused seconds before his legs came to life and he followed the leader. 

"Enjolras", Grantaire called, but the man kept walking. "Enjolras!" 

"Leave me alone", Enjolras shouted over his shoulder, going through the door and walking down the street. Grantaire followed him, even if he knew he should respect the man's wish. But Grantaire could no longer live like that. He could endure Enjolras being rude and cold to him, but having him completely ignore Grantaire was driving him insane. He didn’t even know what he did wrong for the man to act like that towards him. All he wanted was an explanation. Grantaire tried to reach for Enjolras, who glanced over his own shoulder and, upon seeing Grantaire on his heels, decided to cross the street. 

"Enjolras, I just want to talk to you-" 

"Leave me the fuck alone, Grantaire!" Enjolras yelled, turning on his heels and coming to a hault, staring directly at Grantaire. "Why can't you just leave me alone, why can't you just get out of my head-" 

"Watch out!" Grantaire shouted, noticing a car that doubled the corner suddenly and was racing directly towards Enjolras at full speed. Enjolras stared at the vehicle, eyes wide and surprised, frozen at the spot, face illuminated by the car's flashlight as it approached him further. A horn echoed, Enjolras raised both arms in front of his face in a meek attempt to defend himself, and a sudden, harsh impulse sent him flying back across the air. He collided with the floor, falling heavily on his side and knocking his head on the pavement. 

Enjolras opened his eyes, confused. His arm hurt and the side of his forehead stung, but other than that, he was completely unharmed. He looked around, seeing Grantaire fallen on the middle of the road, lying on his stomach and unmoving. 

He had pushed Enjolras out of the way. 

The sound of tires singing against the asphalt pierced Enjolras' ears and the car took off without offering them any aid. He crawled towards Grantaire's now fidgeting body, heart thumping madly inside his chest, trembling hands scratching themselves on the asphalt as he went and lip quivering with fear. Grantaire was hurt because of him. Again. 

The cynic groaned in pain, as Enjolras approached him and Enjolras let out a shaky sigh. At least he was conscious. He touched his arm with gentleness, trying to turn him on his side, but Grantaire remained still, breathing harshly. 

"Are you alright?" Enjolras asked, tears pooling on his eyes. His voice sounded weak to his own ears. He was so scared, he couldn’t process his mixed feelings. "Where does it hurt?" 

"I'm fine", Grantaire groaned. "It barely even hit me". 

"Grantaire", Enjolras said, voice breaking. There was nothing else he could think to say. 

"I'm fine", the man repeated, propping himself up with his elbow and painfully turning to lie on his back, facing Enjolras. The left side of his face was a little scratched from the asphalt and there was already a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone. 

"Did you hit your head? Where did the car hit you?" Enjolras asked, fussing over the cynic and trying to check for any furhter injuries. 

"Can you stop that?" Grantaire snapped. Enjolras unconsciously leaned away from Grantaire, retrieving his hand and surprised at the sudden tone. 

"W-what?" He asked, confused. 

"Whenever I'm hurt you act like I'm the most important thing in the world for you, but as soon as I'm ok you pretend I don’t exist and I'm tired of living like that, Enjolras", Grantaire said, sitting up with difficulty. Enjolras was staring at him with wet wide eyes. "I can't do this anymore. You need to decide whether you like to have me around or not, so I can decide whether I stay or leave". 

"You're thinking about leaving?" Enjolras frowned, and Grantaire let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He hissed in pain as he tried to get up on his own, but Enjolras was quickly by his side, aiding him and steadying him with a hand when he finally got to his feet. "Let me take you to a hospital, R, you're unwell-" 

"No", Grantaire said with harshness. He limped towards the sidewalk and leaned heavily on the wall. "I told you I'm fine, my apartment is on this block. But we need to talk about this right now, I can't postpone this conversation any longer". 

"Grantaire-" 

"No, Enjolras. I need to know. I need you to tell me what you want from me". 

He was breathing heavily now, but it wasn’t from the pain. He eagerly awaited for Enjolras' response. He had convinced himself he would be able to handle it, no matter what it was. 

"You..." Enjolras started, looking at his own feet. "You can't stay near me". 

Grantaire stared at him for seconds that felt like an eternity. Enjolras didn’t look like he would say anything else. Grantaire's self-hatred was yelling at him, begging him to walk away without ever turning back before he managed to humiliate himself further, but the reasonable part of his brain wouldn’t allow him to leave without explanations. He needed to _know_. 

"Are you going to tell me why?" He asked, voice shaking against his will. 

"Look at yourself", Enjolras said, snorting. Grantaire's heart skipped a beat. "You just got run over by a car to save me, Grantaire. Barely a month ago you nearly died from a head injury that you only suffered because of me. You're always getting hurt when you're around me, and I can't be responsible for that too on the top of everything else". 

"Have you ever considered that that's my decision to make?" Grantaire asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow. "I'm the one who put myself in front of the rock. I'm the one who pushed you away. I made those choices, out of my own free will". 

"And why is that?" Enjolras asked abruptly. He sounded angry, but Grantaire couldn’t tell if the feeling was directed to him or to the Enjolras himself. "Why do you keep putting yourself in danger on my behalf?" 

Grantaire swallowed dry, shutting his lips to form a thin line. Enjolras scoffed. 

"I can't take seeing you get hurt because of me, and that seems to be the only thing that happens whenever we're around each other, which is why I think you should stop attending ABC meetings. You never believed or contributed to the cause in the first place, I don’t even know why you bother showing up-" 

"Stop embarrassing yourself, I told you you can't fucking scare me away", Grantaire interrupted, things finally starting to make sense. "If you think that being rude to me is going to make me disappear, you better change your strategy". 

"Why can't you just leave?" Enjolras asked, angry, breath hitching in his throat. Grantaire stared in disbelief. 

"One word", Grantaire whispered after a couple of tense seconds. "Say it, and I'll leave. You'll never have to see me again. But if you do say it, it must be because you truly want me gone, and not because you think you're protecting me or some shit. I know what's best for me and I make my own decisions. None of anything that happened was your fault, they were my choices. But if you really want me to go away, just say it, and I won't bother you for any longer". 

Enjolras stared up at him with sad eyes. 

"Why are you like this?" He asked, and it was Grantaire's turn to scoff, turning his head away and smiling sarcastically. "You're trying to turn me into the bad guy like you always do", Enjolras continued, shifting his position to stand face to face with Grantaire. "You want me to tell you to go away and blame me for that later. Just like you always mock me and humiliate me in front of everyone and get all sappy whenever I cut you off". 

"'Cut me off'?" Grantaire asked, ignoring the dull ache in his ribs as he stood straighter. "You call telling me I'm a useless drunk and a waste of space 'cutting me off'?" 

"You've told me worse things!" Enjolras protested, accusingly.  

"And you have done worse things!" Grantaire shouted back, pain only a background noise now. "Sorry that I fucking care about you, Enjolras. I'll make sure I let you be hit by a fucking car next time, since saving your life seems to be such an inconvenience for you!" 

"Are you really going to start being sarcastic now?" Enjolras asked, annoyed. "Great, that's just great. See, that's why we can't communicate, Grantaire, can't you just be serious for once?" 

"I am wild", Grantaire growled, glaring at Enjolras with defiance. Enjolras glared back, basically fuming with anger in the cold night. Neither of them spoke for a long time, the tension between them becoming nearly tangible. 

"Why do you keep doing this?" Enjolras finally asked, voice barely above a whisper and shaking with anger. "Why do you keep endangering yourself because of me?" 

"You really don’t know?" Grantaire asked, and some of the roughness in his eyes disappeared. Enjolras shook his head. 

"I don't understand. I've always thought you hated me, but then you never seem to hesitate to throw your life away because of me", Enjolras said. "I need to know why". 

"Enjolras", Grantaire said, all roughness leaving his eyes and being replaced by a soft gentleness that he reserved only for the leader. "I do that for the same reason that I attend ABC meetings without believing in the cause, and for the same reason I can't get scared away by you no matter how mean you can get. Don't you know what that is?" 

"No", Enjolras whispered, suddenly noticing that there was barely no distance between himself and Grantaire anymore. Their faces were mere inches away from each other. 

"It's love, Enjolras", Grantaire whispered, and he was trying to look certain but Enjolras could see the fear and unsureness hidden deep inside his eyes. "I love you". 

Enjolras stared at Grantaire in silence, too thrown aback to develop a response. Grantaire didn’t look disappointed at his lack of words, only... resigned. Enjolras' eyes darted across Grantaire's face, looking for something he couldn’t find. 

"And I understand if you don’t return my feelings, but I know that, deep down, you don’t hate me or despise me", Grantaire continued after the tense silence. "You wouldn’t show me how much you care when I get hurt if you hated me, which is why I need to know why you keep giving me the cold shoulder when I'm ok. I want to know if you're... if you're faking worry out of guilt, or if you actually care about me. If you truly want me gone, I will leave, but if the only reason you put distance between us is because you think you are protecting me, I need you to stop because this is killing me", his voice broke at the last words. 

Enjolras was still staring, frozen in the spot. It was as if his brain had short-circuited. His lips were slightly parted in surprise. 

"Say something", Grantaire urged, breath hitching. He was leaning heavily on the wall now, pain returning at full force as his adrenaline ran off, making his ribs ache too much for him to stand upright. 

"I..." Enjolras started, but his mouth kept opening and closing, making him look like a fish. "I don’t know what to tell you". 

"Tell me anything", Grantaire breathed out, on the verge of desperation. He had just opened his heart to Enjolras and told him his deepest secret. He had never admitted his feelings to anyone but himself. He felt vulnerable and exposed, as if he had just cut his chest open and showed what was inside. Enjolras' lack of response was making him anxious. He would take anything, even a no. It was the silence that he couldn’t bear. "Tell me if you want me to leave. Tell me if you love me back. Tell me why you ignore me after all we've been through for the past months". 

Enjolras merely stared, wide eyes confused and afraid. 

"Just say anything", Grantaire basically begged. 

"I can't", Enjolras spat out, nervousness overcoming him. "I- I don't know, I... I didn’t- I need sometime to think". 

"Ok", Grantaire responded after a few seconds, voice hollow. "I won't pressure you anymore. Take whatever time you need to think. When you're ready, please come talk to me. I'll... I'll be waiting for you". 

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Enjolras snapped, anger returning and replacing his confusion. "Don't you have any regard for your own happiness? How can you so easily and willingly hand yourself over to me, without even knowing if I will return your feelings, when the only thing I do is hurt you?" 

Grantaire gazed at Enjolras with sadness. 

"Because I love you", he said simply. Enjolras felt like he had been punched in the chest. 

"I can't do this", the leader breathed out harshly, panting and shaking his head with frantic movements. "I'm sorry, I can't. Just look at-- I can't", he rubbed both eyes with his palms, stepping back and away from Grantaire. "I can't. We can't see each other anymore, I can't keep harming you – you need to leave. I, I need to leave. We can't keep doing this. I'm sorry, I -- I have to go". 

Grantaire only stared unmovingly as Enjolras darted away from him, nervously walking down the street and disappearing on the corner, leaving Grantaire behind and alone, the pain on his ribs a mere phantom when compared to the pain in his heart.  

- 

Combeferre was the one who talked Enjolras out of his ethical dilemma. 

The leader knew he couldn’t go through all of that alone, which was what made him call Combeferre in the middle of the night, sobbing uncontrollably and asking him to go to his place so that they could talk about what had happened. Combeferre, always the good friend, obliged, and he was soon on Enjolras' doorstep, knocking politely even though he knew where all his spare keys were. 

Combeferre watched him stoically as Enjolras told him what had happened on that night, expression not shifting for even a second. When Enjolras finished his tale, taking a deep, shaky breath and staring at Combeferre pleadingly, the guide removed his glasses, rubbing both eyes with one hand before placing them back on. 

"I don’t think there's much I can do other than help you come to terms with your feelings", Combeferre finally said, sighing at Enjolras apologetically. 

"What do you mean, come to terms with my feelings?", Enjolras asked, frowning. He didn’t like the way this conversation was heading to. 

"Enjolras, you need to figure out what are your feelings towards Grantaire", Combeferre explained patiently. Enjolras turned his gaze away, staring at his hands. "I understand this must be difficult for you", Combeferre added, outstretching a hand to lightly touch Enjolras' knee. "But you can't keep going like this. Neither of you can. You're both getting hurt from this, and pretending that a problem doesn’t exist doesn’t make it go away. Grantaire came clear with you. You should return the favor and do the same, even if you don’t return his feelings. It's better than ignoring him". 

"But I don’t know!" Enjolras snapped, getting up suddenly. He rubbed his face with both hands and groaned in agony. "I don't know what I feel for him, I don't know -- I can't do this, Combeferre, even if I liked him back, how can we ever work? We're doomed to fail, we're always arguing, we're always hurting each other-" 

"Enjolras, take a deep breath", Combeferre instructed, and only then Enjolras realized he was starting to hyperventilate. He sat back down on the couch beside Combeferre and did a breathing exercise with him, leaning back heavily against the cushions. "Are you feeling better now?" 

"No", Enjolras said with honesty. "It feels like I'm having a heartburn". 

"An actual one or a metaphorical?" Combeferre smiled sympathetically. 

"Both", Enjolras groaned, and shifted his position on the couch so he could rest his head on Combeferre's lap. His best friend started caressing his curls, and  even if Enjolras still felt like crap, at least the soothing movements on his scalp were easing his nervous state. 

"This is doing you no good, my friend", Combeferre said after a few moments, hands never leaving Enjolras' head. "I know that avoidance is the easiest way, but you're hurting yourself with this. You need to figure out what you want. Let me help you". 

"Ok", Enjolras breathed out. 

"Do you like Grantaire?" Combeferre asked. 

"I told you I don’t kn-" 

"Not romantically speaking. Do you like him as a person? Does his company please you?" 

"Yes", Enjolras answered after some thought. "I like having him around. He's a pain in the ass most of the time, but... but I like when he's close. It's comfortable. Sometimes he even helps me strengthen my arguments with his obnoxious comments". 

"Good. So, if he went away, would that make you unhappy?" 

Enjolras bit his lower lip, pensive. He looked unsure. 

"Try to imagine your future without Grantaire in it. How would it be?" 

"Colorless", Enjolras replied, not looking at Combeferre. "It would be... savorless". 

"Then why did you tell him to leave?" Combeferre asked. There was no accusation in his tone, only a desire to help. 

"Because he's always getting hurt whenever he's close to me", Enjolras explained, looking conflicted. "He doesn’t hesitate to put himself in danger on my behalf, he doesn’t mind getting hurt because of me. And I don't want him to get hurt, I want him to be happy". 

"Why?" 

"Because I care about him". 

"But don’t you think that pushing him away and ignoring him is hurting him, now that he told you how he feels about you?" 

"Well... yes, but it's better than him being hit by a car because of me". 

"My friend, I think the problem here is that you think you know what's best for Grantaire, without letting him decide for himself. He's a grown man, he can make his own decisions. You're taking the option to choose away from him". 

"But I can't stand seeing him hurt", Enjolras whispered, hiding his face on Combeferre's leg. 

"Let's try to empathize, shall we?" Combeferre said, as if talking to a child. "Try to put yourself in Grantaire's place. Imagine it was you in his situation. First, you see Grantaire is about to get injured by a rock and put yourself in front of him, taking the blow instead. You do this because you care about him and you don't want him to get hurt. You wake up in a hospital after a coma and Grantaire doesn’t go visit you after you wake up, not even once. When you go back to your normal life, Grantaire ignores you and is colder to you than he's ever been, he avoids you and ignores you even though you just saved his life. How would you feel if that happened?" 

"Bad", Enjolras said after a few moments of thought. 

"And then, let's suppose you finally get fed up with the could shoulder Grantaire is giving you and decide to talk to him, even though you're afraid you'll be rejected by him. Then he runs away from you, and you see he's about to be ran over by a car. You push him out of the way and get hit yourself, but Grantaire is still angry. You tell Grantaire of your feelings for him, but he doesn’t respond and runs away. How would you feel, then?" 

"Worse", Enjolras murmured. 

"You said yourself you care about Grantaire. The prospect of a future without him doesn’t appeal to you. You told me in the past you can't stop thinking about him. You value his opinions, even if you won't admit it to him. You're trying to protect him from harm, even if that means losing him. You're trying to put his happiness above yours, even if you're not exactly succeeding. You feel good when he's around you. You, Enjolras, are in love with Grantaire". 

Enjolras stared straight ahead for a few shocked seconds before hiding his face against Combeferre's leg again and whispering "oh my god". 

"Take your time", Combeferre told him, continuing to caress his curls. 

"I need to tell him", Enjolras said, suddenly getting up from Combeferre's lap and sitting up straight. "I need to let him know". 

"Right now?" Combeferre frowned, checking the clock. It was nearly 11 p.m. 

"Yes", Enjolras muttered, getting up from the couch and frantically looking for his shoes. "He told me he loves me and I said nothing back. Oh my god, I actually told him to go away. What if he goes away, Combeferre? I need to tell him". 

"Enjolras, calm down", Combeferre smiled, pulling his friend in to a halt. "Text him and ask him if you can go to his place first. He is probably upset, we don’t know how he will react if you show up there uninvited after this night". 

"Alright", Enjolras nodded, fishing his phone out of his pocket but putting his shoes on anyway. He sent a text to Grantaire. 

**To:** **Grantaire** **(22:54) Hey, R. sorry for barging out. I think I'm ready to talk. Can I come over?**  

Enjolras sat back down on the couch and turned the volume in his phone to the highest setting, placing it on the coffee table in front of him and eagerly awaiting for a response. Combeferre sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. Minutes that felt like ages passed, but Grantaire didn’t answer. 

"Maybe I should call him?" Enjolras asked, uncertain. 

"That would be best", Combeferre nodded. 

Enjolras dialed Grantaire's number and waited anxiously for a response. It hit voice mail. 

"He's not answering", Enjolras frowned, hanging up. "Do you think he's ok? He was hit by a car, what if he's dying Combeferre?" Enjolras asked, voice raising nervously. 

"Peace", Combeferre eased him. "Let me try to call him". 

Combeferre pulled out his own phone and called Grantaire. He, too, received no response. 

"That's odd", Combeferre commented. "Maybe he really is unwell. Did you see where the car hit him?" 

"No", Enjolras panted. "But he said it barely hit him. He was having trouble to stand up straight and his face was bruised, but there wasn’t any blood or any broken bones that I could see, I looked for it-" 

"At what time did it happen?" Combeferre asked, putting on his own shoes. 

"Uh, the meeting had just ended, so about two hours ago?" Enjolras said. 

"I'll ask Joly if he knows anything. If he doesn’t, then we'll go over to Grantaire's to check if he's ok", Combeferre announced, sending a quick text to Joly. 

**To:** **Jolllly** **(22:59) Hey Joly. Have you heard from R in the past two hours? - C**  

The reply came nearly instantly. 

**From:** **Jolllly** **(23:00) No?? Why?? Should I have?**  

**F** **rom:** **Jolllly** **(23:00) Did something happen??**  

**T** **o:** **Jolllly** **(23:00) Relax. Would you mind calling him for me? Just to see if he picks up. - C**  

**From:** **Jolllly** **(23:01) Fine, but you'll have to explain to me what's going on!**  

**From:** **Jolllly** **(23:01) Brb**  

Combeferre set the phone down and waited for Joly's response. 

"He will call Grantaire. Stop biting your nails", Combeferre told Enjolras, who was nervously biting his fingers. 

**From:** **Jolllly** **(23:04) He's not picking up or answering my texts!! What's going on???**  

**T** **o:** **Jolllly** **(23:04) Joly, calm down. He and** **Enjolras** **had a fight. I'm on my way to his apartment to check on him, ok? Don’t worry. I'll update you as soon as I have info. - C**  

**F** **rom:** **Jolllly** **(23:05) If he has as much as an ingrown toenail I want you to tell me**  

**F** **rom:** **Jolllly** **(23:05) Now I'm really worried** **Ferre** **please tell me if he's ok??**  

**T** **o:** **Jolllly** **(23:06) Will do. Relax, it's probably nothing. I'm on my way there. - C**  

Combeferre put his phone away and got up from the couch. He didn’t even dare to tell the man that Grantaire had been hit by a car, he would probably have a heart attack if he knew. 

"He's not answering Joly either. We should go check out if he's ok", Combeferre said, and Enjolras was immediately on his feet.  

"Ok", Enjolras said nervously, following Combeferre out of his own apartment. 

"Enjolras", Combeferre said seriously as they walked down the stairs of Enjolras' apartment building. "If Grantaire is unwell, maybe this won't be the best time for a converstation-" 

"I won't push anything", Enjolras eased him.  

Grantaire didn’t live too far away from Enjolras; the cynic lived on the same block as the Musain and Enjolras lived two blocks away. They reached the man's old apartment building in five minutes, and were up and standing in front of his door in less than one. 

Combeferre lifted a pot with a dead plant and picked the spare key from beneath it after they knocked several times and Grantaire didn’t answer. Enjolras had been to Grantaire's apartment once, nearly a year ago, to pick up posters he had asked Grantaire to make for a protest. The place looked exactly as he remembered, only a bit dustier. There were empty beer bottles scattered across the floor of the living room, and a shattered bottle turned into a pile of broken pieces of glass lying near the wall. Enjolras swallowed dry, not seeing any signs of Grantaire anywhere. 

"R", Combeferre called, looking around the apartment for the man. The sound of a bottle clinking against the floor came from the bathroom, and both Enjolras and Combeferre rushed there, pushing the slightly ajar door open. "Oh my god", Combeferre whispered in shock, taking in the sight in front of them. 

Grantaire was lying unconscious inside an otherwise empty bathtub, fully clothed. His head was leaning heavily against the cold bathroom wall and there was a nearly empty bottle of whisky on his lose grasp, glass being propped up and prevented from falling by the inner edge of the tub. Enjolras stared, numbness filling him due to the shock. He was frozen to the spot. 

Combeferre, on the other hand, surged forward towards Grantaire, quickly kneeling beside the tub and taking the man's pulse. He then lifted Grantaire's eyelids to check on his pupils and the cynic shifted uncomfortably, groaning and tilting his head. His pale lips parted slightly and the bottle finally slipped from his limp hand, contents spilling on the tub. 

"He's alive", Combeferre stated matter-of-factly, but Enjolras was still having trouble breathing. "But he's drunk a lot of alcohol and is burning up with fever. Which doesn’t make any sense, if anything, he should be really cold... help me take him to the bed, then I'll call Joly". 

It took all of Enjolras' self control to start forward and help Combeferre hoist Grantaire from the tub. His best friend grabbed Grantaire by the armpits and Enjolras grabbed his knees. They hoisted the man and quickly carried him to his bedroom, letting him fall heavily against the mattress like deadweight. Grantaire had gone limp, lips parted and breaths quick and short. Enjolras approached the bed and touched the cynic's forehead as Combeferre dialed Joly's number and paced across the hall. He was burning up with fever. 

Enjolras noticed Grantaire was trembling and found a blanket to cover him with, worry making his stomach churn and twist. He had, once again, hurt Grantaire, and staring at him now, place and shivering and unconscious made his heart tighten inside his chest. 

"Joly is on his way", Combeferre announced, reentering the room and immediately taking Grantaire's pulse again. "We should try bringing his temperature down while he doesn’t arrive". 

Enjolras nodded, getting up from where he had sat at the edge of the bed and heading to the kitchen. He returned with a damp cloth, which he placed on the top of Grantaire's forehead. The man shifted uncomfortably at the coldness, but remained unconscious, brow twisting into a frown. 

Combeferre pulled the blanket Enjolras had covered Grantaire with and pulled the man's shirt up, prodding at his ribs to check if they were broken. Grantaire let out a pained yelp when Combeferre poked one specific rib, and his eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. 

"Stop", he groaned, pushing Combeferre's hands away from his ribs. 

"I need to check if they're broken, R", Combeferre said, shrugging Grantaire's weak hands off and continuing to prod the ribs. Grantaire groaned, uncomfortable, but Enjolras dared to reach for his curls and caress them, hoping it would ease him. Grantaire's eyelids slipped closed and he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, but in no time his eyes darted open again and focused on the blonde man above him. 

"Wha' are you doin' here?" Grantaire asked, trying to lean away from Enjolras to no avail. His head fell heavily against the pillows and he blinked sluggishly, clearly intoxicated. 

"We're here to check on you", Combeferre explained, pulling his shirt back down and covering him with the blanket once more. "How much did you drink?" 

"Eno'gh to sto' the pain", Grantaire slurred, eyelids slipping close and breathing heavily. 

"Where did it hurt?" Combeferre urged, shifting the damp cloth on the man's forehead. 

"Ribs", Grantaire groaned. "Heart". 

"Heart?" Combeferre frowned, trying to figure out how Grantaire could have possibly hurt his heart, when suddenly it hit him. He looked up at Enjolras, who was fixedly staring at Grantaire, chewing on his lower lip. Grantaire whimpered in response, and muttered a weak "go 'way 'm fine" before turning on his side with some difficulty and falling asleep again. 

Combeferre picked the cloth and tried to damp his neck and pulses, Enjolras standing uselessly beside him. Then they heard the front door open and close, rushed steps echoing fantly across the apartment, and suddenly Joly appeared on the bedroom door, holding up a first aid kit and looking extremely worried. 

"Tell me", Joly said, pushing Combeferre to the side and touching Grantaire's cheek to feel his temperature. Those two words were enough for Combeferre. 

"He and Enjolras fought in the middle of the street, a car nearly hit Enjolras but Grantaire pushed him out of the way. We don't know where he was hit but he has nothing broken, only a couple bruised ribs. When we got here he was unconscious on the tub with a half-empty bottle of whisky on his lap, burning up with fever". 

"Oh my god", Joly muttered to himself, shifting the cloth on his brow. "He's so hot, this cloth won't help. He needs to take a cold shower". 

"Why does he have a fever anyway?" Combeferre asked, confused, helping Joly to remove the covers from Grantaire and half-lift him from the bed. 

"It's not the first time I find him like this", Joly explained, hoisting Grantaire with difficulty. "It's an emotional fever. A strong shock or emotional stress can cause his body temperature to increase, even with the amount of alcohol he's consumed". 

"Does he need to go to a hospital?" Enjolras asked, following the men into the bathroom. Joly and Combeferre set Grantaire inside the bathtub, Combeferre keeping the barely conscious man propped up with both hands as Joly turned the shower on. 

"Hopefully not", Joly said, and the cold water from the shower fell upon Grantaire. He immediately groaned in discomfort, trying to shrug Combeferre's hands off and get away from the water.  

"Stay still, R", Combeferre instructed, Joly helping him to hold Grantaire. 

"No", Grantaire cried, finally opening his eyes as he frantically trashed and tried to get away. "No, stop, it's too cold". 

"I know R, I'm sorry", Joly whispered, sounding genuinely sad. "But this is for your own good". 

"Joly, stop", Grantaire cried, actually sobbing. His knees were buckling and his lower lip was quivering from cold, and he was slowly growing still, too tired to fight. Enjolras was staring with teary eyes, feeling incredibly guilty. Grantaire finally found Enjolras standing at the corner of the bathroom, and locked eyes with the man. 

"Enjolras, please", Grantaire whispered, helpless. 

Enjolras bit his lower lip, unsure of what to do. Then he stepped forward, gently touching Combeferre's shoulder and calling the man's attention. 

"Let me", Enjolras said quietly, and Combeferre stared at him in confusion for a few seconds before stepping to the side and allowing Enjolras to step into the tub. 

Enjolras stood in front of Grantaire, fully clothed, cold water splashing against his face and his hair, draining his entire body and making him shiver. Grantaire stared at him, glassy eyes confused and questioning, not understanding what Enjolras was doing. He was completely trembling now, barely able to stand upright. Comberre and Joly watched silently. 

Then Enjolras stepped forward and pulled Grantaire into a hug, both wet from the water and shivering. Grantaire was tense at first but then melted on Enjolras' grasp. 

"I'm sorry", Enjolras whispered in his ear, droplets of water dripping from the tip of his nose and his eyelashes. Grantaire's wet curls tickled Enjolras neck, but he didn’t break the hug. 

"Enjolras", was all Grantaire whispered in response. His skin was still hot, but the cool water seemed to be helping lower his temperature. 

"I think that's enough", Joly said after a few moments. He reached and turned the water off, grabbing a towel for Grantaire. The soaked man seemed reluctant to let go of Enjolras' embrace, but allowed Joly to pull him into the dry towel and out of the tub. Enjolras remained there, staring at the wall and already missing Grantaire's heat. 

"I'll get you some dry clothes", Combeferre told him, helping Joly to take Grantaire back to the bedroom. "Stay here". 

Enjolras stayed. 

Combeferre reappeared a few minutes later with a towel and some spare clothes for Enjolras. 

"These are Grantaire's, but I think they'll fit on you", Combeferre said, placing the clothes on the sink. "When you're done put your wet clothes on the tank in the kitchen", he instructed, and then disappeared once more. 

Enjolras stripped to his boxers and let his damp clothes fall on the bottom of the bathtub. He dried his curls as best as he could with the towel and picked Grantaire's dry ones. Only then he realized that the green hoodie Combeferre had picked from him was the same one Enjolras had been wearing on the picture taken at Courfeyrac's birthday party. He couldn’t tell if that had been intentional or not. 

He placed his wet clothes on the tank as Combeferre instructed and walked back to Grantaire's bedroom, knocking lightly on the door before entering. Grantaire was already tucked in the bed, damp curls spread on the pillow and covers pulled up to his chin, seemingly asleep.  

"His temperature lowered", Joly announced. "He still has a small fever but it should break anytime now. He needs lots of rest and water, and absolutely no stress for a while", he said the last words while glaring up at Enjolras. "His ribs are just bruised, but I've already put an ice pack on them. He will be fine". 

"Someone should stay here to keep an eye on him, though", Combeferre said absentmindedly, and Enjolras immediately stepped forward. 

"I'll stay", the leader announced with a tone that didn’t allow questions. Joly and Combeferre exchanged a look. 

"Enjolras, are you sure-" Combeferre started. 

"I'll stay", Enjolras repeated more emphatically. "I won't stress him out. I'll take care of him". 

"Why should I let you stay here with my best friend after everything you put him through?" Joly asked, studying Enjolras. 

"Because...", Enjolras started, not looking at Joly and swallowing dry. "I... I care about him. I want to see him well. And I want to make things right". 

Joly stared for a few more seconds before letting out a resigned sigh. 

"Make sure he drinks lots of water and takes his aspirin when he wakes up", the young doctor said. "Call me if anything, and I mean _anything_ , happens. I'll be back in the morning to check on him". 

Enjolras nodded, leading his two friends out of the bedroom and to the front door. 

"I'm trusting you with him, Enjolras", Joly told him before he left. "Don't make me regret this". 

"You won't", Enjolras assured. Combeferre gave him one last squeeze on the shoulder before they both left.  

Walking back to the bedroom, Enjolras found Grantaire in the exact same position. His mouth was wide open now and he was snoring softly, chest rising and falling in a pleasing rhythm. Enjolras touched his forehead again. It was still warm, but not alarmingly hot as it had been a few minutes before. 

Enjolras climbed the bed, wondering what Grantaire's reaction would be when he woke up and found Enjolras lying beside him. In fact, there were lots of things Enjolras was wondering about right now, doubts and unspoken insecurities filling his head. Grantaire unconsciously snuggled closer to Enjolras, passing an arm above the leader's stomach and leaning his head on his chest. Enjolras contently lifted his hand to caress Grantaire's curls, and he continued to do so even as his arm became numb from the lack of bloodflow. 

Grantaire knew Enjolras was asexual, as did all his friends. If that was a problem for him, he wouldn’t have declared himself to Enjolras, would he? 

He took in the situation before him. He was lying on the bed, caressing Grantaire who was cuddling him, wearing Grantaire's clothes, feeling Grantaire's scent invade his senses, feeling Grantaire's warm sip through the covers and surround him. He felt comfortable.. 

He felt happy. 

He must have also fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing Enjolras knew was that there was a sudden jumping motion in the bed and he woke up to find it empty, warmth on the pillows telling him that Grantaire had just gotten up. Enjolras frowned, and then he heard the retching sounds coming from the bathroom. Grantaire must have woken up feeling nauseous due to his hangover. 

Enjolras got up too, bare feet contacting with the cold floor and headed to the bathroom, only to find Grantaire leaning heavily on the toilet as he vomited the contents of his empty stomach inside it. Enjolras turned the sink on and wet his hand, placing it gently on the back of Grantaire's neck and rubbing soothing circles on his back as he resumed puking. 

Grantaire panted, sweaty forehead resting heavily on the porcelain surface. 

"What are you doing here?" He croaked after a few moments, voice hoarse. 

"Looking after you", Enjolras told him gently, hands still caressing Grantaire's back. 

"I don’t need your pity", Grantaire spat sharply, pressing the flush and getting to his trembling feet with some difficulty. 

"I'm not here out of pity", Enjolras explained, stepping back to give Grantaire space to rinse his mouth on the sink. "I'm here because I care about you". 

"Right", Grantaire said, drying his mouth with a tiny towel and passing by Enjolras, heading back to the bed and falling heavily against the mattress. 

"You need to take your aspirin", Enjolras told him, remembering Joly's orders. "And drink lots of water. Alcohol is highly dehydrating". Enjolras picked the glass of cool water on Grantaire's nightstand and the small pill Joly had left there on the night before, offering it to Grantaire, who had covered his eyes with the crook of his arm. The man ignored him, and Enjolras poked him lightly. "Take your medicine and then you can sleep". 

"Fuck off", Grantaire mumbled, turning on his side and barely suppressing a whimper as he upset his bruised ribs. 

"No. Take your pill", Enjolras stated, stubbornly, grabbing Grantaire's hand and depositing the pill in the open palm. Grantaire let out a loud, resigned sigh and put it in his mouth, grabbing the cup of water from Enjolras' hand without looking at the man and drinking it with large gulps until it was empty. He placed the cup back in Enjolras' hand and turned on his side again, covering his ear and face with a pillow. 

"When you're feeling better, I would like to talk to you", Enjolras said, but Grantaire showed no signs of listening. Enjolras let out a resigned sigh, and walked out of the bedroom. The cynic fell asleep a few moments after that. 

Joly passed by to check on Grantaire a few hours after that as promised, examining the sleeping man and declaring that he was fine. His ribs would ache for a few more days, but if he kept icing them and not exerted himself, he should be fine in no time. Enjolras was relieved to hear such news, and decided to make Grantaire lunch to start compensating for all the damage he had caused him. 

The only problem was Enjolras had no idea how to cook proper lunch, and the only cookable thing he found on Grantaire's kitchen was frozen pizza. He decided that would have to do, even if it wasn’t the healthiest of choices. 

Enjolras put the pizza on the oven and set the timer, noticing a bookshelf on the living room. He approached it, musing at the number of good readings Grantaire possessed. One particular volume called his attention, a very old edition of Hobbes' Leviathan, and he picked up from the dusty shelf. Enjolras had read that book several times over the course of his life, but never in such an old edition. He got so carried away on his reading that he forgot about the pizza in the oven, and only when the smell of smoke spread across the apartment and filled his nostrils he remembered about the pizza. 

He dropped the book on the couch and rushed back to the kitchen, turning the oven off and pulling the oven door open, making a cloud of grey smoke emerge from the inside. Quickly grabbing a cloth on the sink he pulled the metal tray off, throwing it carefully on the kitchen counter and making a loud clattering noise doing so. He coughed, widely waving his hands in a useless attempt to dissipate the smoke, closing the oven door with his hip and covering his mouth and nose with one hand. 

"Are you trying to set my house on fire?" Grantaire's voice asked, and Enjolras quickly turned around to see him leaning on the kitchen's doorframe, dark circles under his eyes and curly hair completely disheveled. He was holding his covers around his shoulders and looked too pale to be healthy, but there wasn’t any hints of anger or annoyance in his eyes, just curiosity. 

"Sorry", Enjolras said between coughs, getting away from the oven, which was where most of the smoke had gathered. "I wanted to make you lunch but I suck at cooking. I found pizza and put it on the oven, but I found your bookshelf and lost track of time". 

Grantaire scoffed, smiling slightly at Enjolras before lowering his head with shaking movements. His curls hid his eyes from Enjolras view, and the leaden felt a sudden strong urge to brush them away. 

"I'm sorry", Enjolras repeated, taking Grantaire's laugh for mockery. "I... I just wanted to make you something nice". 

Grantaire approached him slowly, looking over at the burnt pizza. The edged had become basically coal, but the middle of it hadn't burnt off completely. 

"Nah, the middle is still edible", Grantaire said. Then he looked up at Enjolras, a seriousness that hadn't been in his eyes before appearing. "What are you doing here, Enjolras?" 

"We need to talk", Enjolras told him. Grantaire scoffed, turning away and heading to the living room. 

"I know that", Grantaire said without looking back. "That's what I told you yesterday, before you ran away and left me alone in the middle of an empty street". 

"I'm sorry about that", Enjolras said with sincerity following Grantaire. "I didn't mean to... go away like that. I just... I wasn’t ready to talk about that then". 

"Are you ready now?" Grantaire asked, letting himself fall on the couch and remembering his aching ribs with the impact. He didn’t mean to whimper and managed to mostly suppress it, but he could immediately see the guilt appearing in Enjolras' eyes. 

"Yes", Enjolras said, taking a seat beside Grantaire, who moved the forgotten book to make room for Enjolras. They sat at a respectful distance from each other, Grantaire checking which book Enjolras had been reading to forget the pizza and rolling his eyes at the title before setting it aside. 

"Talk, then", Grantaire said, crossing both legs and leaning his elbows on both knees. "I've already told you everything I wanted". 

Enjolras swallowed dry, suddenly too interested in his own hands to look Grantaire in the eye. 

"Firstly, I wanted you to know that I love you back", Enjolras said, taking offense when Grantaire scoffed. "I would never say such a thing flightily. You know that. If I'm telling you I love you, it's because I do". 

Grantaire studied him for a long time before speaking. 

"I don't think you're lying, no", he said finally. "But I do think you're fooling yourself into thinking you're in love with me". 

Enjolras stared back at Grantaire incredulously. 

"I am not", Enjolras protested. "It may have taken me a long time to realize I have feelings for you, but I will not have them discredited like this". 

"Sorry, I just find it really hard to believe that you love me after you spent months pretending I don’t exist and basically treating me like shit", Grantaire shrugged, suddenly annoyed. 

"And I find it hard to believe that you love me when the only thing you do is publicly mock me and humiliate me in exchange of a good laugh!" Enjolras protested back. 

They stared at each other silently, neither knowing what else to say. 

"The only reason I pushed you away", Enjolras broke the silence, "was because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I thought I was protecting you, keeping you safe. Only now I see how much this must have hurt you, and I am sorry for that". 

Grantaire gave him a wary look before shifting his gaze to his hands. 

"I'm sorry too", Grantaire said, lowly, "for, you know, mocking you and all". 

"We're both so stupid", Enjolras breathed out, daring to move closer to Grantaire and take his hand into his. "I love you so much. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it". 

Grantaire finally looked up at him, curls falling over his grey eyes. Enjolras lifted his spare hand and brushed them away just like he had wanted to, and Grantaire closed his eyes against the touch. 

"I love you", he whispered, warm breath connecting with Enjolras' pulse and sending shivers down his spine. "I love you". 

"I love you too, R", Enjolras responded, leaning forward and allowing his forehead to connect with Grantaire's. It was an intimate gesture, the closest they had ever been to each other, physically and emotionally. Enjolras let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, and Grantaire lifted his hand to rest at the base of Enjolras' neck. 

Grantaire lifted his head slightly and their lips brushed for a second, making them stare at each other for what felt like ages, both seeking consent in the eyes of the other. Enjolras tilted his chin ever so slightly up, signaling to Grantaire what he wanted, and the cynic understood the message. Their eyelids fluttered close as Grantaire closed the distance between their lips and they shared their first kiss, which was warm and sweet and had no rush at all. 

They parted, never taking their eyes from each other. It was as if the shared eye contact could say the words their mouths would never be able to. 

"We're really stupid, aren't we", Grantaire said after a few seconds, and Enjolras giggled, carefully pulling Grantaire into a hug and allowing his head to rest against the cynic's shoulder. 

"We are", he agreed, breathing in Grantaire's scent and snuggling closer to him. Grantaire shifted positions on the couch and lied down, Enjolras cuddled close to him, face hidden in his neck. 

"Please don't ever let yourself get hurt because of me again", Enjolras asked after a few minutes of silence in which only their slow breaths could be heard. The leader had his hand resting on the top of Grantaire's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest and sensing his comforting heartbeat. 

"Please don't ever push me away like that again", Grantaire replied, mimicking Enjolras' request. His hand was caressing Enjolras' curls with affection, and he had been nearly dozing off when Enjolras spoke. 

Enjolras nodded, snuggling closer to Grantaire on the couch, hand never leaving the man's chest. They fell asleep like that, napping comfortably on the couch, Grantaire's nose buried in Enjolras' curls as he caressed them, and Enjolras resting his head on crook of Grantaire's shoulder, slightly clinging to his shirt in his sleep. 

That's how Combeferre and Joly found them on that evening, and if Joly took a few pictures of them cuddling on the couch for Enjolras to put on another portrait like he loved to, he never told anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write something like this.  
> The title is from AJJ's song with the same title.  
> If you liked this, please comment and leave kudos! They make me happy and motivate me. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and you can always find me on edema--ruh.tumblr.com  
> Come say hi if you want to!


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